


What He Hates

by mylongestoof



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives), Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Depression, Fuck Martin’s mom all my homies hate Martin’s mom, It’s all sad! Beware! I project hard!, M/M, MAG186 was crazy anyway I wrote something for it, Major Character Death is for the canonical ones, Martin Blackwood-centric, Not Beta Read, TMA Speedrun from Martin’s perspective, Trans Martin Blackwood, Two Martins talking it out two Martins talking it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylongestoof/pseuds/mylongestoof
Summary: Martin hates a lot of things about himself. Let’s go through that!
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Martin Blackwood, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	What He Hates

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings: transphobia, fatphobia, suicide ideation, death, abusive parents, self-hate  
> I think that’s it, but PLEASE let me know if I need to add more! I will not hesitate to add them.

One of Martin’s first memories is of staring at his face. The memory itself was rather short and Martin couldn’t remember what his face had looked like, exactly, but he remembered that he had hated it. He hated the roundness. He hated the _freckles._ He hated nearly everything about how he looked. He hated his face, and that surge of hate was so strong that Martin would remember that memory for the rest of his life.

_

Growing up with his mother was tough. She’d be silent one day, then the next, she’d point out everything that was wrong with him. His hair was too short. He didn’t wear the right clothes. He was getting a bit tubby.

Martin listened to her, because he was thankful that she was actually speaking to him. He did his best to conform to her wishes, but, well, Martin was clumsy, and he ruined most of his fancy clothes. Most of the kids at school either didn’t know who he was or teased him, and one of them put gum in his hair; so there went his hair.

As for the weight. Well, Martin couldn’t do much to fix that. So, by either the hand of fate or just dumb old luck, Martin was forced to stay the same. And he hated it.

_

Throughout the years of numerous failed applications, he had learned what to say and how to say it. It wasn’t exactly an easy skill to pick up, as Martin wasn’t always the most socially adept at times. When he went in for his interview with Mr. Bouchard, he thought it would be another failure. On top of that, Martin was certain he was going to be caught lying on his CV.

Yet when he went in for the interview, Mr. Bouchard didn’t confront him. He didn’t call security and throw Martin out. He didn’t even let Martin down easy. No, Mr. Bouchard took one look at Martin, and smiled, staring at him with an intense gaze that made Martin want to vomit.

“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.” Mr. Bouchard said, with a sort of cheeriness in his voice that Martin hadn’t heard over the phone. 

Martin, most of all, hated his name. It wasn’t what he wanted when he was born, but even now, even when he was semi-happy with the half name he had, he still hated it. Blackwood. He never liked it, not since his father left.

“Just Martin, please.” Martin asked.

And Elias obliged for the rest of the interview. After all, how could he know that Martin hated hearing his last name?

So, Martin let it slide, and he listened to Mr. Bouchard list off strange details about what he presumed to be parapsychology, and agreed with him. By the end of the interview, Mr. Bouchard thought Martin a genius! He actually hired him! 

“You’ll start Monday.” Mr. Bouchard said.

Martin was so glad that he had gotten a job that had paid _so_ well that he had forgotten that academic jobs usually take longer to get.

For the next three years, Martin worked quietly in the Library. His “degree” in parapsychology was mostly used for identifying the religious text that would come in from time to time, and even then, Martin did a fairly good job at bullshitting through that.

When Mr. Bouchard randomly transferred him to the Archives, Martin’s stomach lurched. The Archives, as he understood it, investigated the really bad statements and filed them away for later use. Which meant that Martin _needed_ a degree now. One that he never had.

When Martin saw Jonathan Sims for the first time, he hated his brain. It made him clumsy and stupid, and he thought he’d do better without it. As it turns out, Jon did too.

Martin hated his brain, because Martin cared about Jon so much. The man was a train wreck. Tim and Sasha thought so. Martin did too.

He wanted to help Jon. Every sneer and insult made Martin want to help him get better. Martin was...aware that he had a habit for that, that he was toxic in that way, but that's just how it worked with him. Martin wasn’t worthy if he wasn’t useful.

Tim and Sasha looked at him with pity. He saw it in their faces every time Martin came out of Jon’s office. He knew they cared about him, but…

_

With Prentiss outside of Martin’s door, Martin hated his skin. It itched whenever he stopped scratching at it, _feeling_ for any worm or worm hole. Martin hated his ears for hearing the dull knocking. Martin hated his eyes for crying.

He knew that he could get out of this if he wanted to. He could end it quickly. He could just _open_ the door and let the worms take him over, and he’d be gone. No more itching, no more crying, no more knocking, and no more _peaches!_ There was one thing stopping him.

Jon. He had to prove that this was happening to Jon. Martin did _not_ want to die from supernatural worms only to become another “fake” statement, a mental case assigned by someone who had no idea what he was going through. He wouldn’t do that again.

So Martin stayed alive. He hated his chest for rising and falling.

_

Martin hated his legs for running. It’s just that he had nowhere to go. Jon and Tim were _right_ behind him, and now...Martin left them. Martin left them behind to get eaten by worms, and Martin had just ran away. 

Martin hated his legs for hurting. He was so tired. It had been a long day, filled with the full human circle of emotions. Martin was ready to go home and…

Martin didn’t have a home. Martin didn’t have a flat. Martin’s bed was being destroyed by worms, probably. The money from this job had been grand! His mother was in a home, away from Martin! Imagine how happy she would be if Martin told her that he was practically homeless and currently running from worms!

She’d say he deserved it. 

Martin hated his legs for carrying him into the room. At first, he saw nothing. Then...he saw a body.

Martin hated his voice for screaming.

_

Martin hated his eyes again. What they saw had been insane. And now...this was even crazier.

Sasha wasn’t...Sasha, not since the attack. Jon is gone, being charged for murder. Tim is angry. Tim won’t look at him. He hasn’t, since...

Martin has lost all of his friends.

When Jon comes back and accused _Elias_ of murder, he expects Jon to be arrested, taken away for the rest of his life, with only Martin to visit him. But Elias confesses. Elias murdered Gertrude. Elias murdered Jurgen Lietner.

What a fucking asshole. Martin hated Elias.

Jon leaves, after that. He barely speaks to Martin, and while that may not be something big to Jon, it was huge for Martin. Martin hates his eyes, for crying...again.

_

Martin _really_ hates his face. He can’t go a second without remembering what Elias told him, what Elias _showed_ him. His mother hates him. His mother despises him and has never loved him.

Why? _Why?_ Martin had tried so hard to make her love him, so why couldn’t she? Why wasn’t he good enough for her?

Martin’s breaking down in the Institute Bathroom. Jon, Basira, Tim, and Daisy are off to stop the Unknowing, and Martin and Melanie are trying to get Elias...arrested. Martin sobbed. It was never going to work. Elias would beat them, somehow.

Martin continued to cry in the bathroom. He hated his life.

When Martin finds out that Jon was the only one to survive the Unknowing, Martin begins to hate his heart for feeling.

_

Martin didn’t really hate anything. Not anymore. Not with the fog surrounding him so perfectly, fitting into the empty spaces of himself like puzzle pieces. Martin was alone, and Martin had always been alone. He realized that maybe...maybe that’s just how things were supposed to be. Martin Blackwood was such a lonely name, after all. Maybe his own bias tinged it so, but even thinking about it made the fog around him cling tighter.

Jon was looking for him, and Martin hated Jon. He was a stupid man who threw himself into the lonely for someone who was hopeless. Martin wouldn’t be coming out. Martin didn’t want to.

_“I really loved you, you know.”_

It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Even Elias pointed it out, when Jon had nothing to do with it. Maybe Jon had everything to do with it.

It didn’t matter anymore! Martin hated thinking about it! Martin covered his face, and tries to stop. He wanted it to stop.

But it didn’t! And the Lonely got loud with static and Peter Lukas crying out in pain. Martin knows he died when the static finally fades. He knows Jon sees him when he calls his name.

_“Martin, look at me. Look at me and tell me what you see.”_

Martin moves his hands away from his eyes, and finds that Jon isn’t glaring at him. He finds that Jon is smiling, even while he’s crying, and that Jon is...Jon is so close to him, and he takes Martin’s hands as soon as they’re available.

“I see you, Jon.” The fog let’s go of him, “I _see_ you.”

_

Martin doesn’t hate his face. He doesn’t hate his eyes or his hair or his body. He doesn’t hate his heart. 

Looking at him, his other self, wasn’t even strange at first. They knew each other so well, it was like talking to a best friend. A best friend who was a bastard and who said what “we’re all thinking”, but still your best friend. And Martin appreciated that.

“You know, you don’t give yourself enough credit.” Other Martin says.

“For what?” Martin asks.

“Learning to love yourself. Not to be a-a know it all, but I don’t think many people _do_ love themselves, especially not now. You beat the odds.”

“You should be thanking J-”

Other Martin glares at him, “Don’t do that. Yeah, Jon helped, but don’t take credit away from yourself.” Other Martin sighs, “I know how you thought back then. It feels like you’re a whole new person now, right?”

“Yeah.” Martin says, “Yeah, it does.”

“Because you are. You changed. And not just suddenly, either. With Tim and Sasha, you learned to like yourself a little bit more.”

“Then they died.” Martin said.

Other Martin nods, “They did. But they still helped you. And so did the others. You’ve done a very good job. I’m proud of you.”

Martin hates his other self. Maybe that’s the reason why he pulls him in for a hug.

**Author's Note:**

> Two Martins kissing Jon? I think you missed a real best friend potential for Martin there, folks (although the kissing thing is cute).  
> Also yeah, I referenced two trucks in the tags. Neil Cicierega is what’s getting me through 2020.


End file.
